


Shake and Stir, Shake and Stir

by speckleflecks



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, angsty!roxy, character examination, drunk!roxy, one-sided romance, she just needs some hugs and lovin', sober!roxy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speckleflecks/pseuds/speckleflecks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Roxy got her heart broken three times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shake and Stir, Shake and Stir

**Author's Note:**

> this is mostly practice because I haven't written in forever, so I'm awfully rusty, sorry
> 
> also writing Roxy Lalonde is a surprisingly difficult endeavor

==> Roxy: Fall in love with your friend in the present.

 

 

And when you say the present, you mean the future. Hells yeah, the future, complete with the sole remnants of the human race living on floating houses in the middle of the fucking ocean.

Or just earth. It’s not like you’ve ever seen dry land before – the real kind you’ve read in the books your Mom gave you, where there’s beaches, and mountains, and forests, oh my.

(You hear it’s pretty.)

And you are not falling in love with Dirk Strider, okay, you just really want to get into his pants. DAT ASS, dayum.

Seriously, he’s too much of a jackass to love. Also, he’s gay. Like, really, _really_ gay. For Jake English, specifically. Not that you blame him, English is also a fine piece of work, but still, you’ve never thought you’re that ugly, yourself, and that hasn’t done much for you. Two sole survivors of humanity stuck living their days out on an empty earth, destined to be hunted by the Batterwitch for the rest of your lives, and what does he say? Yeah I’m kind of in love with a guy from four hundred years ago, sorry.

No, you are totally not bitter.

And you are definitely not indulging in a large portion of your mother’s special stash of beverages – the ones that were actually hidden in a trapdoor so that you wouldn’t try to drink them, you like to think – just because you’ve realized you need to take no for an answer.

 

==>

 

You’re on your fifteenth glass and still going strong. Well, not strong, maybe, since your grasp on the glass seems to have gotten significantly slipperier within the past hour or so.

You down the shot and pour another.

It’s not like it’s his fault. In fact, most of it is probably yours – you flirt with him, push his buttons, and it makes him uncomfortable because Dirk Strider has to have his dignified mystery princess aura or he’s not satisfied with himself. You know this, of course, because you have known him since the day you existed.

(It’s not _born_ , because that’s not how ectobiology works, no matter how much you miss your Mom or he misses his Bro.)

But you wish you could just give him what he wants, what _you_ want – happiness, _togetherness_ , so that you can live for more than watching for drones and checking pesterlogs on an infinite loop. You wish he would be able to look at the possibility of repopulating the earth as something more than a duty that is required of him.

You wish he would drop the genius cool-kid act for one day so that he would know how to live without a stick up his ass. You wish he wouldn’t drape his shades on his face with thick layers of irony because his _eyes_ , god, they are like the sunset on the ocean, and normally you're sick of seeing the ocean but when the day starts to wind down you never fail to look out the window and remind yourself he’s out there (and that you're not alone.) You wish you could take him in your arms and ruffle his hair, play pretend even if it’s only for an hour.

But you know he won’t let you do those things, not that way, because that’s just who he is. You already knew that a long time ago, when he asked you in his roundabout Strider way how he could get into someone’s pants, and you knew exactly who he was talking about. And you taught him anyway, because you love him despite the fact that he is as flaming homo for his bro as lit motor oil, and you want him to be happy even if it’s not beside you.

So when the time comes and he decides to confess, you suck it up and slap him on the cybernetic back of pesterchum, and push him towards English as hard as you can.

You both know it’s just for show, but he tells you Thanks, Lalonde, and you cyber-shoo him away and say thas me matchmakre extraoriindaire and that’s enough. It will be.

You almost drop your martini but you catch it just before it hits the floor. Instead of throwing it back, you sip at it instead.

It burns in your throat.

 

 

==> Roxy: Fall in love with your friend in the past.

 

 

Well, technically, it’s not the past, it’s the present. Chat log infatuations transcend time and as far as you’re concerned you are dropping hints the size and weight of Mount Olympus on Jake English’s oblivious head at the current clock-check of 16:52, year unknown.

So what if it’s not just for you? Janey and Distri deserve as much of a chance in this threeway Jakey competition as you do. Probably more. They’re both much too cautious to get anything done.

He’s not quite sure what you’re talking about but he thinks you ought to get some rest because it should be quite late on your side of the world, apparently, and you can’t help but laugh. Oh, this kid is so stupidly charming, and frankly in your opinion it’s _quite_ early at the moment so don’t worry. You came prepared for this matchmaking session with an original vodka mixed with some probably-hundreds-of-years-old cans of Monster, which means you likely won’t be sleeping for the rest of the month but whatever.

Okay, although you call it a matchmaking session, it’s more like a _Jesus fucking Christ how oblivious is Jake English seriously_ session. You have literally thrown every single hint you could come up with to imply that there are people who care for him in ways both sexually and romantically, but so far he’s responded to all of them with giant green squiggly punctuation marks.

Holy shit you are starting to hate those things.

You resist the urge to throw your keyboard at your monitor in frustration at Jake’s most recent demonstration, where you told him Janey was expressing interest in boys and he responded with a _that’s nice_ followed by about ten question marks because you’d made the comment without any segues whatsoever from the previous topic (Dirk’s smuppet fetish). You suppose in this case it’s mostly your fault, since that was a pretty bad subject change, but even then you’d think he’d get the goddamn _hint_.

Sometimes you wonder if he does it on purpose, just to screw with all of you. Or, maybe, he’s just avoiding it because he’s afraid of addressing the topic with his circle of friends. It’s not like you can blame him – you love Jane and Dirk very much, but they’re not the easiest people to get along with. Being the center of attention can’t be easy, and Jake lives alone on an island in the middle of buttfuck nowhere where the only person he ever talked to in real life was his now dead Grandma.

Then again, you know for fact that Jake can be kind of a dick. These contrasting, unintentional moments (like when he cockblocks Strider or blows off Janey without realizing it) are part of what’s so weirdly attractive about him. You guess. Remaining totally hypothetical here.

You laugh and tell him how rudely adorable he is, geez, it’s the islander-with-glasses stereotype that all the girls are falling for these days. He doesn’t miss a beat and asks if that includes you.

You know it’s supposed to be a joke, but you can’t help it; your heart skips a beat anyway. Without thinking – because you never think things through when you’re smashed – you send him, wat do u thibk of me jakey? Once you realize the message is already gone, you hastily tack on a *think and a ;) to take away the seriousness of it because holy shit, not what the mission was today at all Roxy way to go.

In a show of once-in-a-lifetime sensitivity English seems to notice your slight pause with the emoticon because there’s a wait of a solid five minutes where he doesn’t type anything. You guess he’s actually considering your implication, wow.

Of course, when he does respond, it’s with I think you’re a good friend, but…

You can’t say you didn’t see it coming.

You’re more like my sister, he types, or my mother, even! and you find that this is more disappointing to you than it probably should be. You aren’t supposed to like the gun-toting adventurer, you know this; there are already two people vying for that position and it’s crowded enough as it is. Besides, you’ve known that both Janey and Strider have been interested in Jake English for way longer than you have, and it’s not really fair for you to just come traipsing in and scream _I’m in love with Jake too guys_ because even though the truth is you probably suck at the whole amateur matchmaking thing, you do know for a fact that the last thing your friends need is a love square instead of a triangle.

(Textbook geometry, bitches.)

So you ignore the unpleasant feeling in your gut and type out some bullshit about hahaha yea thas provbly a good thing so about distri, and guzzle down your Monster vodka.

You realize too late that Monster vodka is not meant to sit in the open for long periods of time, and Jake asks in panic if you’re having a seizure because your hands are repeatedly mashing the keyboard in disgust.

**BLUH.**

 

 

==> Roxy: Fall in love with your friend in the future.

 

 

As if. This has been building since way back when you first talked on Pesterchum and you’ll freely admit it.

Granted, you don’t really start thinking about your relationship with her until you’re in the game and she’s dead.

Jane is your bestie, and you’re hers. You may not be the best at _being_ a bestie, since you almost blew her up with a computer program and all, but you try and you think she knows that. You hope. Why else would she be so cool with almost murdering her in place of the Batterwitch? And as trying as it was before the game with all of her skepticism and doubt, now that she actually believes (most of) the things you tell her, it’s gotten a lot easier to open up to her.

Besties for _life_. Look, a funny.

And, of course, being BFFSIES 4EVERZ means you would do anything for her, especially if it will save her. So when you find her corpse stabbed through with the miles, you think it’s finally time to pay her back for nearly killing her.

And, of course, you can’t do it.

You’re not sure why, at first – it’s just kissing, honestly, and you’ve been wanting to do this with everyone else in your social circle so why not the one person you are platonically closest to? But then Dirk shoves your sorry ass out of the way and takes care of things himself, and for just an instant you feel jealousy shoot through you.

What could have beens are for chumps, and you know this better than anyone else. But it still bothers you.

It’s strange because unlike Dirk and Jake, you can’t really flirt with Jane. You try, it just…doesn’t happen. It probably doesn’t help that for the rest of the game you are all basically _flipping your shit_ and trying not to die, and also working out who the hell these new people – _and some of them aren’t even people, wait, is that your mom_ – are that crashed into your session. Which, coincidentally, marks when shit hits the fan for the endgame and Jane gets a Batterwitch makeover, free of charge.

Yeah. Not exactly an environment ripe for a newfound bisexual in love. (Again.)

Once the game is finally over (and you did it, you won, you _won_ holy god) you still don’t get much to work with because now it turns out you have world building to do, and apparently even the Void player has a job in creating a new universe. You spend most of your time with Jade trying to work out how to make outer space and black holes, while Jane is busy doing Lifey things with the new residents.

Sometimes, when you’re on break, she lets you watch and it’s like you’re falling through the void because wow she’s amazing. And it’s not like you’ve forgotten about what happened before, and you still love Dirk and Jake more than anything in the world, but Jane is incredible when she works, face scrunched up in concentration as she tries to work against what her Class compels her to do.

It’s also really cute. So cute. Ugh why the cuteness.

And then when she’s done she smiles with lots of those goober teeth and asks Are you up for some girl time later? :B and it’s just the most adorable thing in the world as it shoots through every piece of resistance in your heart, even as you notice the shy glances and the awkward touches between her and Jake and you know that old flames are indeed a thing that can happen given time and apologies.

 

==>

 

The night is dark and you are smashed as fuck.

Obviously, this means that drinking through half the tequilas you brought with you is the best idea you’ve ever had. It makes you stop questioning your decisions, after all, and being assertive is what you’ve wanted to do for a while now.

It takes you three tries to knock on Jane’s door, and four at turning the handle before she opens it herself. She takes all of five seconds to look you up and down before herding you in and locking up behind you. You’re not really sure why there are five of her, or why the kitchen table is so far away, but somehow you manage to make it there without breaking anything.

You think. It’s hard to tell.

Janey’s getting her mother hen act on as hard as she can, asking if you’re all right, do you need anything, and you know that it won’t be long before she starts chiding you about how you need to control yourself better, but –

When you open your mouth you don’t _mean_ to blurt out  im ib lov wikh u ok but that’s what happens, and Jane has enough practice working through your drunken blurbs online to translate it for what it is. She leans forward and presses a hand to your forehead and you think, hope, _maybe_ –

And then she apologizes and says I am not a homosexual and you’re struck by a nauseating sense of deja vu that coincides with the vomiting of your lunch all over her shoes.

 

==>

 

You wake up the next morning with a huge hangover even by your standards. You also realize, through the pounding of your skull, that you are in Jane’s bed. A sweet smell wafts through the doorway – probably from the kitchen, knowing her.

You also know that having a conversation after last night (oh hey look Mama Roxy got rejected _again_ isn’t that great) is not really a thing that should happen because you’re not sure if you can take Jane’s pastries right now and also how will you ever be able to look your best friend in the eyes again uggh head hurts stop thinking now.

Despite the fact that your migraine is about to crush your puny brain into a million pieces and scatter them to the wind, you manage to crawl out of the covers anyway. You grab the nearest piece of paper and pen (goddamn it they’re both Crocker brand why does she even still have this shit when the game is over), scribble a hasty message of hey janey sorry about last night forget everything i said gonna head home thanks for letting me crash, and then dive through the transportalizer while hoping that the trip doesn’t make you throw up anything that might be left in your stomach.

 

==>

 

You show up in your room and you find that although your migraine has risen to a rung on its echeladder that is ten times worse than it was before, you are at least able to refrain from hurling all over your carpet. Which, if it weren’t for the aforementioned migraine and the fact that your rejection is starting to sink in enough for you to start getting depressed, you would be very appreciative of. That is a damn good carpet.

You manage to unplug the transportalizer behind you. Since the incident where you went void-diving after an unfortunate round of miscommunication, you’ve added LED lights to the rims so that they turn off if one side is disabled. You’ve also explicitly told your friends not to go through them if at any point it might not be safe, especially now that you’re out of the game – you’re not sure where the void goes anymore and you don’t want to find out.

Hopefully Jane will notice and get the message that you don’t want to talk.

You turn back to your shelf where Vodka Martini Jr. sits purring casually. You know that Dirk is going to be disappointed in you for indulging again, but it’s a little late to worry about that when you already got drunk once last night. Yes, you decide, a drink is exactly what you need. Make that several.

(You’ve had it wrong all this time, you decide after the seventh glass; bloody mary is your true love.)

(And you are totally not back to square one.)

(Le sign.)


End file.
